Hello, dear few readers, I'll keep this one short. So I stayed up until, like, five A.M. writing and reading the last chapter. Here I am, in the same bed, at 10:18 in the morning starting another. I had about two hours of sleep, and I'll probably type this in the car as well… Assuming my laptop doesn't die on me.

Oh, here comes the boring part…

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for… Never mind, I own nothing. Characters, Underland settings, and refrences all belong to the wonderful Suzanne Collins. Though certain places in the above world are real, some of them are made up. I don't own any songs mentioned either, in this chapter, and probably during my whole story.

Now that we have that boring part over, let us begin!

Gregor, and his sister's, journey was extremely boring. The underground train that would take them to New York was slow; in need of major updating. One of the lights were out which caused Lizzie more distress than it did Boots, who sat contently in his lap while she swung here legs back and forth to skim the floor.

"I did it!" She would squeal at random whenever her sneaker brushed against the surface. This caused the other few people to look curiously I his direction. Gregor probably looked like a runaway to them, or probably a kidnapper.

"You probably just wanted us to come with you so you weren't alone on the way to Regalia." Lizzie said loudly, seeing the other passenger's curiosity.

"Boots is practically a princess to all the crawlers, which probably accounts for over half the population, and you forget that Ripred has a soft spot for you."

The people of the train, formerly judging the trio with their looks, now all looked out the windows the stare at the cold, grey, walls of the tunnel. If only they knew of more tunnels than just these man made ones, Gregor thought. But no, the Underworld wasn't for everybody to experience which assured Gregor, making him feel like the secret world was always with him.

After what seemed like endless hours of Lizzie murmuring assorted words, no doubt rearranging the letters in her mind, and Boots humming nursery rhymes that would stop for a verse while she switched over to her own version of "Call Me Maybe."

The train ride could not have stopped any sooner. One more repeated line about ripped jeans, and Gregor would have snapped. He kept a tight grip on Boots' small hand; not wanting her to run off with all these strangers around, even though she still thought everybody was her friend.

Lizzie on the other hand voluntarily clung to his right side, nearly tripping herself or Gregor every few steps. They exited the station and emerged into the bustle of the streets.

"Boots, want to ride on my shoulders?" Gregor asked loudly after nearly being knocked over by a large family. Not just large in number, he thought irritably.

Gregor didn't think the kid had heard him, but just before he asked again, she lifted her arms up for him to pick her up.

Now with the seven year old on his shoulders, and the nervous thirteen year old by his side, Gregor navigated through the chaos. After about thirty minutes or so, Gregor was able to tell where he was. The number of buildings thinned, but with that the people around them looked stranger. He silently thanked that his family didn't end up as one on the streets before continuing in the direction of their old home.

Boots had started to whine, but thankfully their old apartments came into view. The place looked a bit better, somebody had probably redone the outer walls after the rat incident. Instead of going to the laundry room, Gregor took the girls to Mrs. Cormaci's; hoping she still lived there. His question was soon answered when he went into her hallway, and smelled something amazing. Gregor guessed that the scent came from a fresh pot of spaghetti. Though it was no normal dish, Mrs. Cormaci was probably the best chef they had ever known.

Gregor lifted an enclosed fist, and rapped on the wooden door a few times, and for good emphasis, Boots also rang the doorbell multiple times.

A distinct grumbling on the other side of the door was heard, and he could have sworn he heard, "Distracting me from my cooking," but dismissed it with a small grin.

There was a loud 'click!' and the door swung open to reveal Mrs. Cormaci. She looked older; more worn. Gregor immediately blamed himself for any stress she had encountered because of him not being there on Saturdays. Her face was a bit more crinkled than the last, and crow's feet formed as she smiled.

"C'mon in." She murmured, her breath wispy with surprise. After a few moments she recovered from the shock of the growth the trio had been through. Gregor now stood at exactly six feet tall, which was almost a head taller than the woman. Track and other sports no doubt helped.

"You three look like just skin and bones!" She exclaimed as she stirred her famous spaghetti sauce. "Will you stay for dinner?" Mrs. Cormaci asked, to which they all happily nodded their heads. Boots helped set the small table singing, "Forks on the left," as she quickly went. Lizzie and Gregor both helped serve the spaghetti to everybody sprinkling cheese on and saucing the warm noodles.

Nobody spoke a single word as they slurped, chomped, and gobbled the meal.

Nobody had a single noodle remaining on his or her plates.

"Was it good?" Mrs. Cormaci said, "It was probably horrible. I'll use sauce from a jar next time." She fretted too easily.

"Never had anything better, ma'am." Gregor assured. He then stood to pick up everybody's plate, and take it to her sink to be washed.

"Don't you even bother! I need something to do tomorrow anyways, and dishes always pass time while I'm waiting for my shows in the afternoons." Mrs. Cormaci startled Gregor, nearly causing him to drop the dish he had started to sponge. After he set the half-clean plate down Gregor overturned his arm, and rolled up his hoodie sleeve, to check his watch.

8:49

"We should go." Gregor hefted his and Boots' bags onto his shoulders, and led them to the door when something struck him. "Wait outside, I'll be there in a sec."

Confused, the two kids obeyed, and Gregor shut the door.

"Mrs. Cormaci?"

"What is it?"

"May I ask you a favor?" His feet shuffled, feeling this may come across as strange.

"Depends, what's the favor?"

"Well two favors actually." At that, Mrs. Cormaci just shook her head; Gregor took this as a 'Continue on.'

"The fist thing is… I would like to take your picture. To show them, down there, and I also think some of them would like to see how you look. I did once tell them tales of your meals."

She agreed, and led him to a clear wall so there would be no distractions in the back round. Gregor stood next to her, and put on a fake grin as he lifted up the camera, and pressed the button. There was no flash that was emitted, but Gregor knew that would be fine. The Underlanders might have gotten confused at why some parts of him would glow in the picture because of the glare.

"The next is for a ride to Central Park." Gregor looked into her crinkled face with pleading eyes. She gave him a subtle look of confusion as if she were going to say, "Why not use the laundry room?" But she eventually smiled, and nodded.

"But before you go," Mrs. Cormaci started as she shuffled into her room. A few seconds later she came back with her hands behind her back. "The people down there have purple eyes right?" But before Gregor could answer she pulled her hands out from behind her back, and revealed a necklace. "I want you to have this. Well, no, not you, the girl." Mrs. Cormaci had always given him wonderful things, but never something so beautiful.

The necklace was simple, and for the most part had a small chain. It was the stone hanging from it that struck Gregor. So simple, yet so beautiful, was the purple stone. An amethyst, he guessed. The stone was cut in such ways, that if you held it from one angle, it appeared to be a light violet, but if you lowered it, it would seem as if it were a dark, flowing, purple.

Gregor slowly raised his hand to gently cup and caress the necklace as if it would break at any moment. Turning the gem over in his palm he saw that it was secured to the chain with a golden fastener.

His look could have said it all, but to be sure, Gregor thanked her aloud.

Without another word they strode out of the apartments, and hopped into Mrs. Cormaci's Camry. Gregor sat in the front seat, and would roll down the window occasionally to take pictures of New York.